Caught On Fire
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: Neville and Ginny, slowly falling in love during the year the Death Eaters ruled Hogwarts. All drabbles/OS are related, but they might be out of order. For Jenna.
1. Panic

**Panic**

One, two. One, two.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

"It's hard, isn't it? Being the one they look up to. I never knew it'd be like this," Ginny whispered as they saw just how many people their call to reassemble the DA had brought.

Neville thought back to the shadows on Harry's face, the way Ron and Hermione guarded him.

"I did," he whispered back tiredly. "But we do what we have to, don't we?"

"That we do," Ginny answered with a determined smile that didn't quite manage to make her look happy. "That we do."


	2. Memories

**Memories**

"Do you remember the Yule Ball?"

"The one where we went together, you mean?" Ginny replied from where she was working on her Transfiguration essay, an eyebrow arched.

"Yeah. I-I don't think there was any other Yule Ball I could be referring to," Neville said hesitantly.

"Then yes. Why?" Ginny asked curiously, biting the tip of her quill.

"I don't know. I just… thought of it, I guess." Neville shrugged his shoulders, moving away from the nearby window he had been leaning against toward the table she was working at. He rested his arms against the top of a chair across from where Ginny was sitting, lost in thoughts.

How could he tell her that the reflection of the fireplace on her hair had made him think back of the way artificial snow had clung to it that night, making it look like it was covered with glittering diamond dust? That it made him think back on the way he had practiced for that dance, again and again, until he dreamed of the steps?

"We had fun though, right? I mean, I wasn't such a bad partner that night, right?" Neville blurted out before he could stop himself.

He blushed, but Ginny only looked amused as she set down her quill and leaned in toward him, her eyes shining with a mischievous light.

His breath caught in his chest.

"Yeah, Neville, we had fun."

She leaned back, smirking like the cat that ate the canary.

"And for the record? You're a great partner. You shouldn't put you down like that."

"Thanks Ginny," Neville smiled.

"Now, shoo, I have homework to do," she replied jokingly, waving him away.

"I'm going, I'm going," Neville laughed softly.

Merlin, it was amazing how even just five minutes spent in Ginny's company were enough to lift his mood.


	3. A Talk

**A Talk**

"You still love him, don't you? Harry, I mean," Neville asked once as they laid next to each other on a comfortable sofa the Room of Requirement had summoned for them when they had asked for a place to lay low and be at peace.

Ginny remained quiet for a moment, before she lifted her head to look at Neville's face. She looked sad, he noticed, and he couldn't help but want to erase that expression from her face.

Ginny, he realized, only truly looked like herself with a smile on her face.

"Of course I do," she confessed quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She laid back down, resting her head against Neville's chest, her eyes facing the charmed ceiling. "He's Harry."

Neville felt like he had been dunked in ice. 'He's Harry,' she had said. 'I love him still,' she had said.

Who was he, to think that he could have, what, a chance with this girl when she was so clearly taken with someone else?

"Stop that."

Ginny's voice drew him out of his musing.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"Your ugly, self-pitying thoughts. I can feel them from here," Ginny reproached.

"You've been spending too much time with Luna if you think you can feel my thoughts," Neville quipped, trying to hide his unease.

Even though he couldn't see her, Neville knew Ginny well enough to tell that she had just rolled his eyes at him.

"Well, she does have some good points. Sometimes. She'd agree with me on this though. You're not second best, Neville. You're you, and that's enough."

There was something warm in her voice, something he couldn't quite identify. She took his hands in hers and put them on her stomach, their embrace slightly awkward until they both shifted slightly and made it more comfortable.

"But – but you said that Harry…" Neville protested weakly.

Ginny sighed. "The problem with Harry," she explained, her tone bittersweet, "is that he loves everyone but himself. Merlin, he loves this world so much I'm scared of what he would do for it sometimes, what he would sacrifice for it. And I just – I just want someone who loves me more than they love the world, you know? Someone who doesn't think that breaking my heart means protecting me," she spat out viciously, her hands tightening around his.

"Merlin, I'm such a bitch, aren't I?" She added with a broken laugh. "He's a hero, and here I am, complaining about it."

"You're not a 'bitch', Ginny," Neville replied carefully. "And heroes always look better in the stories anyway."

"They really do," she laughed, and this time it didn't sound as broken.

They spent the rest of the afternoon there, just lying down in quiet companionship. At some point one of Neville's hands found its way to Ginny's hair, twirling the fiery strands between his fingers.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Ginny said when it was finally time to leave this warm cocoon they had created for themselves.

"Don't be," Neville replied with a slight smile. "I'm always here for you if you need me."

Ginny just hummed in agreement, but there was something contemplative about the way she looked at him on the bay back to the Tower.

Oh well, that was a problem for another day.


	4. Wounded

**Wounded**

Neville always came back bloody from his detentions with the Carrows. Even when they got other students to practice the Cruciatus curse, or joined in themselves in the 'fun', there was always a moment someone used some kind of lashing or cutting spell, adding another scar to the long list that Neville now sported.

All students coming back from detentions were of course forbidden to ask Mrs. Pomfrey for help, but that didn't stop the nurse from leaving behind all types of balms or Potions she thought they might need.

It wasn't ideal, and everyone knew that the Carrows only turned a blind eye to it because it meant that their victims didn't collapse halfway through their detentions, but it had to do.

In the DA, they took turns to take care of each other, bandaging open wounds or distributing the pain relievers they always got in bulk.

Ginny though, she always was the one to care for Neville. No one knew quite how or when it had started, but by the end of the first month of classes, everyone knew that when the Gryffindor boy was hurt, the youngest Weasley would help him out soon enough.

Ginny had the worst bedside manner though. She always berated Neville for his wounds – "Why can't you try to be more discreet for once? We need everyone to be at their best Neville, we can't afford to-to lose anyone," she'd yell at him – and wrapped his bandages more tightly than they had to (some kind of passive-aggressive revenge for worrying her, Neville knew), but she still was ready for him every time.

Just as he was ready for her when the Carrows figured out, as they always did, that the latest streak of embarrassing and borderline harmful events that had happened to them came from the youngest Weasley.

Sometimes, Luna joined them too, but more often than that it was just the two of them, two brave souls in wounded bodies, trying their best to get better.


	5. First Kiss

**First Kiss**

 _"Fall in love with someone who tastes like adventure but looks like the calm, beautiful morning after a terrible storm."_

Merely being around Ginny was like always being on a high Neville never wanted to come back down from – there was just _something_ about her that made Neville's heart beat faster, made his mouth run dry.

It made him feel blessed, that he knew this fiery girl.

"Something on my face?" Ginny asked, dragging Neville out of his musings.

"Hn?" Neville replied unintelligibly.

"My face. Is there something wrong with it? You've been staring for like the last half hour," Ginny explained, looking worried, though not about herself – about him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Neville was quick to reassure her. "Everything's fine. I was just… lost in thought," he explained, smiling self-depreciatingly. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you say so," Ginny replied, not looking convinced. Thankfully, she didn't push the issue, only snapping the book she had been working with close, and discreetly sneaking a glance at the Map Harry had left her with.

"Come on," Ginny gestured at him, a wave of her hand packing up the belongings that had previously been spread out on the table. Neville took it to mean that wherever she meant to lead him to, that coast was clear to get there.

Knowing better than to ask out loud about their destination – who knew who could be listening after all – Neville followed her, quietly admiring the way her ponytail swished with every of her step, the low lights in the corridors making it look like a blazing trail of fire.

It didn't take him long to recognize the way to the Room of Requirements.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Neville allowed himself to take in the sight of the particular setting Ginny had asked the room for.

It was a large dueling arena made of dark stone, thick blue mattresses patting the walls all around the circular structure.

"What are we doing here?" Neville asked her.

"I thought you might want to let off some steam, spend some energy, instead of spending hours staring at nothing," Ginny said, smirking. The mischievous glint in her eyes told Neville that she knew perfectly well what he had actually been staring at.

She climbed on the platform and Neville joined her soon after.

They started trading spells and quips almost instantly, barely taking the time to stretch for once.

Sometimes, one of them took note of a particularly useful spell they should teach the DA, and Neville found that he was actually enjoying himself in this.

There was a certain rush that came from evading this friendly fire – friendly, but certainly not nice. Ginny never pulled her punches, or in this case her spells, and it had forced him to up the ante in his spellwork too.

They both avoided more spells than they were hit with – Ginny, with the trained agility of a Seeker, was better than Neville at simply not being there when a spell was coming, whereas Neville's shields were strong enough to withstand several hits – but they still ended up suffering from weird after effects by the end of their duel.

They left the arena breathless and covered in sweat, exhaustion weighing down on their bodies like a warm, heavy blanket.

They collapsed side by side against one of the padded walls provided by the room, and before Neville could really think it, two water bottles appeared right next to them, along with a small plate of sandwiches, no doubt the work of the House Elves.

"So, feeling better, now?" Ginny quipped after gulping down some much needed water. "You're not going to go staring off into the distance on me again, right?" She teased, bumping her shoulders against his.

"I don't know," Neville replied with bravery he hadn't known he possessed, "I guess it depends on what there is in the distance to stare at."

Ginny whipped her head around, and Neville found himself staring straight into her chocolate eyes.

He didn't know how she could look so collected, so calm right now – Neville's heart was beating so fast it felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest, and he wouldn't be surprised to find that he had stopped breathing.

This was another thing he lov-admired about her, this was she had of going from fierce fury to determined woman in a mere instant.

The moment stretched, and agonizingly slowly, inch after inch, they leant in toward each other.

Their lips met, and _oh_ , it was something else.

Kissing Ginny was electric. It was like riding a storm, like swimming against the tide – you were always on the edge of being thrown out, of being pulled under, but Merlin was it worth it, just to feel this good, even for an instant.

It was over too quickly.

"Not bad," Ginny teased, breathless – and not from their earlier duel. "Not bad at all."

 _(Merlin, if he could only save one moment with her, it would be this one:_

 _her eyes, more black than their usual earthy tones, breathless laughter on their lips as they basked in the blissful feeling of being wanted back)_

"Th-thanks," Neville finally stammered back, fighting uselessly to hide a blush. Well, with any luck she'd blame it on the heat in the room. On a whim, he added, "you weren't so bad yourself."

Ginny must have felt merciful, because she didn't remark on it. Instead she hummed for a moment, stretching out her limbs like a cat stretching in the sun. She rested her head against his shoulder, molding herself against his body with a sigh.

"Ugh Ginny, I'm all sweaty," he protested weakly, both from not really wanting her to move and from knowing that persuading her to move now wouldn't be an easy affair.

"Don't care," she mumbled back predictably.

"Fine," Neville sighed.

He stayed silent for a moment, savoring the moment until he could no longer hold it in.

"So… We should talk about it," he said.

From where had was, he could see that Ginny had closed her eyes. She didn't open them to answer, but she did frown. "It what?"

"I.. Err, you know. The kiss," he prompted.

Ginny shifted against his chest. "What's there to talk about? We kissed, it was nice, we should definitely do it again. End of the story. Now stop trying to ruin the moment and go back to being my comfortable pillow," she grumbled.

"We should?" Neville asked, his voice coming out strangely strangled up.

Ginny's eyes didn't have to be open for him to see that she was rolling them.

" _Yes_ ," she replied more intently. "Now hush, I'm resting."

She settled back against him, Neville too stunned to react.

A smile slowly spread over his face.

"Okay," he whispered to himself, "okay."

"I can hear you, you know," Ginny complained, though she sounded more amused than irritated.

Neville just kept smiling, and closed his eyes too, allowing the warmth of Ginny's body and the ever-plaguing exhaustion of these days to lull him into a sleep-like state.


	6. Love

**Love**

 _"I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people."_

Ginny knew the way she looked at the world was different. It wasn't her fault – she had always been this way. She didn't know anything else, didn't think she could, and well, even if she did… well, she didn't think she would want to change a single thing.

Being with Neville was exhilarating, yes. It was romance stolen in the middle of a war, something they knew would be used against them should it brought to the light, and the thrill of that danger was _amazing_ , but it wasn't everything.

Being with Neville was also safe. He made her feel like she belonged, like she could be anything. She felt free around him, like she could fly off at any moment, always going higher and higher until she reached the stars.

There were times when they were together, just the two of them, where her breath caught in her chest, where it felt like her chest would burst wide open, spilling out a heart that beat too fast to stay caged. Moments where she couldn't breathe and thought she might rather die than to let go of this feeling.

Of course, that didn't only happen with Neville.

She had always felt like this – intense bursts of _something_ that took her breath away, happiness so strong she felt like she could smile for days, sadness so deep she thought she might drown in it one day, fear so overpowering moving was a struggle.

But love – love was her favorite high, and being with Neville was the best love she had had so far.


	7. Mothers

**Mothers**

" _There is a lady all in white,  
Holds me and sings a lullaby,  
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch,  
She says "Cosette, I love you very much.""_

 _Les Miserables - Castle On A Cloud Lyrics_

They heard things sometimes, about what went on outside of Hogwarts' walls.

It wasn't quite a war – the Ministry had already fallen, and though no one had quite come out and said it officially yet, everyone with the slightest bit of brains knew that You-Know-Who had won.

There was a resistance though. Neville wasn't sure he could live with what was happening around them, with the way their world was falling apart, if he didn't know that there was a resistance doing everything they could to topple down Voldemort's regime.

Still, that didn't make it easy when they saw people they knew were monsters being acclaimed as heroes in the Daily Prophet, or when the Carrows tortured a first year for 'speaking out of turn' or…

Well, nothing about this was easy.

But at least they could do something about what went on inside Hogwarts – they were useless to fight everything else.

And sometimes, to know that was just too much for Neville, and he had to just _do_ something to vent his anger.

 _(Merlin, he hadn't used to be so angry all the time, but with this… with this going on it was so easy to be scared, to be angry – to be scared of his anger, to get angry because of the fear)_

So he trained. He trained to make sure that he would be the best teacher the DA could possibly have so that they would survive this _(and please, please let them survive this)_ , and to make sure he was too exhausted for his anger to eat him from the inside out.

That was how Ginny found him: running through the obstacle course they had managed to get the Room to give them, dodging colored blurs of whatever the Room threw at him – it wasn't spells, per se, and it wasn't any kind of object either, rather an odd unsubstantial thing that somehow stuck to your clothes and marked you – sending blasting curses at the animated puppets set up by the Room.

Every time he downed one another took its place – he had been there for nearly an hour, and would have stopped soon anyway if Ginny hadn't come in.

"I thought I might find you here," she stated sympathetically as she entered the room, staying clear of the dueling area she knew from experience would spring up some kind of opponent for her to face should she step on it.

Dodging a dark red blur, Neville moved off the platform and dropped down next to her.

"Was there anything you wanted?" He asked, and then winced. His tone had come out much harsher than he had expected it to, and judging from Ginny's arched eyebrow, she wasn't very impressed.

"Sorry," he apologized with a sigh, moving to sit on a bench near the entrance of the room. "I didn't mean to-"

"I get it, Neville," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. "It's fine, really. We're all a little tensed right now, what with…" She trailed off, a guilty look on her face.

This time, it was Neville's turn to roll his eyes. "You can say it, you know," he said bitterly. "I'm not going to break down or anything, if that's what you were wondering. I just needed some time to myself, to err, think."

"Clearly," Ginny stated drily, eyeing the pile of destroyed mannequins that laid in the far off corner of the room. She sat next to Neville though, resting a comforting hand on his thigh, her eyes softening. "That's good, though. We need you Neville, and I know it's hard, but we're here for you – I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to."

Neville let out a bitter bark of laughter. He wanted to yell, to scream at her – how could she think that she understood the way he was feeling, the way his anger felt like it was eating everything up.

But Ginny wasn't the one he truly wasn't angry at, and it wouldn't be fair to her if he yelled at her, so he swallowed back his anger, letting himself lean on the wall tiredly.

"Thanks, Ginny," he replied with a smile he hoped didn't look too broken.

From the way her hand tightened on his thigh, he hadn't really succeeded.

Neville considered leaving but… Well, Ginny had come all this way to find him and she genuinely wanted to help, so maybe… Maybe talking to her might help.

"I just…" Neville sighed. "It was one thing to know she was still alive but in prison, and Merlin, I was so mad when I heard she escaped but at least she was still known as the _criminal_ , as the _monster_ she is," he spat out, "but now the Ministry's pardoned her. It's like none of it ever mattered, like none of what she _did_ to my par-to people mattered, and I just can't believe people are going along with it!"

"I'm sorry Neville," Ginny said with emotion, her eyes soft and warm. "I couldn't believe it either when I read it. We knew that the Ministry had fallen but I never considered that they would do this. It's just – it's just despicable, that's what it is," Ginny continued, incensed.

Despite himself, Neville found his lips twitching up.

"Thanks," he replied, heartfelt.

"You're welcome," Ginny said with a smile.

"I thought my parents were dead until I was five, you know," Neville said suddenly. "I mean, I _knew_ they weren't, but my grandmother refused to let me see them until then and to a kid I guess it just feel like a story, you know, when she told me that she was visiting my parents. They weren't there and I guess part of me thought that meant they couldn't be there, that they were truly gone.

"Turns out," he laughed bitterly, "I was only wrong about the dead part. Bellatrix Lestrange did that to them – did that to my family and she laughed about it, and now they're telling me that she's to be given medals for what, _'protecting the word against the mudblood threat'_? How can anyone believe that when they _know_ the kind of monster she is?"

"People are stupid when they're scared," Ginny replied softly.

"But _we_ 're not – we're scared but we're still fighting, and it's like almost everyone is just laying down, waiting to be rolled over. I just-I just don't understand. Do you?" He asked, his eyes pleading.

Ginny looked torn. "Sometimes it's easier to ignore the problem, to tell yourself that it doesn't truly concern you. I guess," she hesitated, "I guess that some people feel like that."

"It's no excuse though."

"No it's not," Ginny agreed, a sad smile on her lips. "But enough of this – why don't you tell me about your parents, about your mother. You never talk about them," her tone overly cheerful.

Despite himself, Neville smiled wistfully. "I don't really know them – they're not in any real state to communicate or do anything, and I was too young when they… Well, when what happened happened," he continued with a tight voice, "to really remember the people they were before, but I've heard the stories. They were brave, or they never backed down from a fight.

"My mom, err, she liked oranges – my grandmother says that my father had to go out at all times of day and night to get her some while she was pregnant. My dad always acted all serious-like, but in truth he had a mischievous streak a mile wide – grandmother said he got into this prank war once with some of his housemates, and that they never even once suspected him."

"They sound like amazing people," Ginny smiled softly.

"They were," Neville replied bitterly wishing he had something to do with his hands beside clench and unclench them.

"I used to dream about them. Well, my mother mostly, but sometimes, sometimes it felt like my dad was there too. It was like a safe place for whenever I felt too alone. It probably was part of the reason why I thought they were dead," he mused out loud with a bittersweet smile.

"What was it like?"

"What?" Neville asked, surprised, Ginny's voice having dragged him out of what the thoughts now realized he had said aloud.

"That safe place of yours, with your parents," she explained, leaning to rest against him. "I'd like to hear about it – but only if you don't mind, of course."

For the second time – or was it the third? Neville could never keep track – that evening, Neville was surprised to find himself smiling.

"I don't really mind," he admitted, and was amazed to find that he actually meant it. "It was… peaceful, I guess. All white, but somehow it wasn't blinding – everything felt soft there too, somehow, like I was floating on a cloud. I always felt safe there, and warm… It was like, like," and there Neville struggled to find the right words.

"Like you were loved?" Ginny suggested, her eyes awfully bright.

"Yeah, loved," Neville said in a quiet tone, almost entirely to himself. "Anyway, that's where I felt like I saw them, saw her. She'd come sometimes – not always, but often enough. She never talked, not exactly, but she didn't need to, you know? She just needed to smile, or hold me and it felt like, like everything would be right in the world. It didn't matter that I might be a squib, or that they were wherever they were – because in those moments, my mother was there for me."

Neville stopped talking, his voice too tight to continue. He blinked back tears, and once he felt he was enough in control of his voice, he told Ginny that this was all there was to the story.

Ginny hugged him for a long moment, and though she was silent, Neville could feel that she was thinking about something.

"What are you thinking about?" He finally asked when Ginny made no move to let go of him.

"I'm thinking I need to introduce you to my mother," Ginny replied, her voice choked with tears. "And that we'll send back those Death Eaters to whichever hell they came from with extreme prejudice," she added, already sounding more like herself.

Neville smiled – not exactly at the thought, but at her, this wonderful, strong woman who had chosen him out of everyone else.

"I'd like that," he said. "I'd like that."


	8. Snow

**Snow**

On the first Friday of December that year, Neville woke up to find the world outside the dorm's window blanketed in pure white snow.

Everything was quieter, and he allowed himself a few seconds to bask in the feeling, knowing that they would be the only instants to calm and peace he'd have for a while. The Carrows made sure none of the students – apart from their favored Slytherins – ever got too happy about anything, and this first snow fall, which tended to lift everyone's mood, was sure to be no exception to that rule.

Neville was right – by the time classes ended, around three quarters of the Hogwarts' populace had been given detention for some reason or the other. He was ready to give up on this day as another disaster, when Ginny slipped him a message as they walked back to their Common Room.

He waited until they were inside to open it, watching from the corner of his eye as the redhead run up to her dorm.

It was very short, just two lines written in Ginny's familiar handwriting. In some places, the ink still wasn't quite dry and had smeared a little, but the message was still very clearly readable. It was a time and place, written in the code she, Luna and he had spent their first week-end back at Hogwarts making up.

He memorized it, smiled to himself and tossed the paper in the fire, watching it burn with lazy eyes, before going upstairs too.

Two hours later found him outside the castle, by the small arch of trees he knew from experience was out of sight from anyone inside the school.

The visibility was very poor – it wasn't snowing, but night had fallen long ago, and the moonlight struggled to pass through the heavy clouds, giving the world around Neville an oddly surreal look. There was no way a Lumos spell wouldn't be noticed, so he had had to trudge through the thick snow carefully, pausing every once in a while to erase the traces he left behind, and that made him a little late to Ginny's meeting point.

Ginny wasn't there though. It was possible he simply couldn't see her though. The trees cast some truly odd shadows, and whatever faint light the moon gave wasn't nearly enough to pierce through them. He was about to raise his voice when a hand dropped on his shoulder, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Finally!" Ginny cried out in a hushed tone. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you here, out in the cold?"

Neville bit back a scream, and waited until his heartrate slowed back to a more normal rhythm before answering. "Sorry, I didn't think it'd be this hard to see where I was going."

Ginny smiled sheepishly, and grabbed his gloved hands with her bare ones. Even through the thick wool, he could feel how cold they were.

"Sorry, my bad – I forgot." She let go of his hands quickly, rummaging through her pockets for a few instants, before shoving at him a pair of dark glasses that wouldn't have looked out of place in the Quibbler with a victorious cry. "Found them! Fred and Georges sent them to me; they let you see through the dark. They were experiencing with their Instant Darkness Powder, and thought we could use them… Here, let me…" Her fingers were so cold they almost burned as they brushed against his face, but after a few feather-light touches, she took a step back, leaving the glasses on his face.

"How are they?" She asked.

Neville blinked, and turned his head, taking in his surroundings. He didn't want to know how ridiculous he looked like with the things on, but he had to admit that they worked. He couldn't see the world like it was day, which was sort of what he had been thinking would happen, but everything was highlighted all the same.

It was a weird feeling, more like someone was shining a torch wherever he was looking toward, but Neville knew he would get used to it quickly enough.

"Impressive," Neville admitted, before capturing Ginny's lips in a tender kiss.

"What was that for?" She asked with a soft smile when he withdrew.

"I just missed you," he shrugged.

"I missed you too," she told him back, before her lips pulled into a mischievous smirk and she pushed him down.

The snow cushioned his fall, but he still only had a few seconds to get his bearings before he was being pelted by snowballs.

With a yelp, Neville rolled away and scrambled to get up, gathering handful of snow as he went. It was impossible to spend seven years at Hogwarts and not learn how to shape perfect snowballs, and Neville had never been more thankful for that fact than he was now. Ginny was as vicious in a snowball fight as she was in any other kind of fight, and she had the advantage of having prepared ahead of time.

He gave up on using only his hand after the third pile of snow Ginny dropped in his back, and drew his wand in sharp, sweeping gestures that launched ball-shaped snow her way.

He honestly didn't know how long they spent out there, playing, fighting and laughing, but when they stopped, collapsing on a convenient pile of soft snow, the moon shined so brightly the glasses Ginny had given him weren't necessary anymore. The clouds had left, and he could see the stars twinkling merrily above them, the tiny wisps of fog from their heavy breathing occasionally floating by like see-through clouds.

"That was fun," Ginny finally said, and Neville didn't need to see her to know she was smiling widely.

Neville only hummed in agreement, too tired to truly talk out loud.

Ginny shuffled in closer to him, using her hands to push up the snow until it made a sort of pillow for her head against his arm.

They laid there for a while, the only sound breaking the silence their breathing and the beat of his heart he could hear echoing in his head. It was oddly comfortable too, so much so in fact, that he almost didn't feel the cold at all. Finally, Neville spoke.

"We should probably head back," he suggested regretfully.

"We could always stay," Ginny retorted with a shrug.

"We can't stay out here all night," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "Not only will someone come looking for us at some point or might catch us if we stay out in the open, but it's not the kind of weather you stay the night outside for, in case you hadn't noticed."

When she answered, Neville had to bite back on a smile as he heard the pout in her voice.

"We could always use warming charms."

"But then the snow would melt," Neville sighed, "and we'd just be lying in a weird snow soup."

Ginny sighed as well, but she started moving, freeing Neville's arm.

"I guess we should go then."

And with one last mourning look toward the arch of trees hiding the remnants of their earlier snowball fight, they left.


End file.
